


for thou art with me

by bonibaru



Series: Fear no Evil [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Magnus Bane, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Protective Alec Lightwood, Protective Magnus Bane, Season/Series 02, relationships take effort, the key to having no fear is having nothing to lose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-12-15 21:43:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11814762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru/pseuds/bonibaru
Summary: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with meA mysterious illness strikes the Head of the New York Institute. Torn by his own conflicting feelings, Magnus searches desperately for answers. But is Alec running out of time?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written between the airing of 2x19 and 2x20. I was afraid there wouldn't be a Malec reunification before Season 3, and I needed a way just to get through hiatus. The show delivered a great ending before I posted (yay!). So I rewrote a bit, and now this has become a canon-divergent AU.
> 
> The events through 2x20 take place as established by canon, only Isabelle couldn’t convince Alec to ask Magnus for help closing the rift. Isabelle went to ask Magnus instead. That small difference rippled through time and caused Alec to leave the victory party early. In this universe, we pick up two weeks later, and find out what happened next.

Magnus Bane took a deep breath, straightening his jacket out of habit more than necessity. It had only been a couple of weeks since his last trip to the New York Institute, but his nerves were on edge all the same. After the Seelie Queen betrayed them all, Isabelle Lightwood had persuaded Magnus to work beside the Shadowhunters, to save the city and protect innocent lives. He had even celebrated with them afterward at The Hunter’s Moon. It had been a pretty good party, all things considered, with free-flowing drinks and a momentary, easy camaraderie: Downworlders and Shadowhunters toasting Valentine’s defeat together.

Still, undercurrents of discontent lingered between the Shadowhunters and the Downworld. Once the post-battle haze of victory had worn off, Magnus found it hard to pinpoint what, if anything, had fundamentally changed. Centuries of Clave dominance and Downworld oppression couldn’t be instantly wiped out simply by killing off one extremist and his henchmen. Forward progress between all the races seemed to have stagnated. For example, Alexander Lightwood’s Downworld Council meetings hadn’t resumed yet, to Magnus’s surprise.

Born leader that he was, Alec had continued to push for improved relations between the Downworld and the Clave even after Magnus had ended their relationship. Magnus couldn’t help feeling pride at Alec’s dedication, though he no longer believed he had any direct influence on Alec’s political maneuverings. But maybe it wasn’t that strange for some time to have passed with no meetings. Magnus had plenty to keep himself busy in the wake of all the trouble Valentine had caused, and he supposed Alec did too. There had been an increasing number of demons turning up here and there in the city plus a few remaining Circle members to be rounded up and dealt with by those loyal to the Clave. But even considering all of that it seemed odd to Magnus that Alec had fallen so uncharacteristically silent in recent days. Those things were reasons Alec normally would have been calling meetings, not avoiding them.

Alec had come to the Hunter’s Moon celebration after Valentine’s defeat but he hadn’t stayed long. The young Head of the New York Institute never had been much for parties. They hadn’t spoken, although once when they accidentally made eye contact Magnus had raised a glass to Alec across the room in a gesture of congratulations, a salute which had been returned only briefly before someone else called Alec’s attention away.

Magnus was hopeful that with more and more time passing between encounters his discomfort around Alec might start to fade. They had been cordial and professional to each other, working together during the last hours of Valentine’s apocalyptic attempts to destroy the Downworld. But while that had been - quite nice, in a way, familiar; almost comfortable once their initial tension at being near each other had dissipated – it definitely hadn’t helped Magnus clear his head where his feelings for Alec were concerned. If anything, Magnus only felt more muddled and confused than before. With Valentine alive, a clear and present danger, Magnus had felt quite justified ending his romantic relationship with Alexander. Choosing the Downworld over his own desires hadn’t been easy, but Magnus had at least felt certain at the time that it had been the right choice to make. But with that immediate threat over and life returning to normal (as much as his life could pass for “normal”), Magnus found himself more and more having to push thoughts of Alec aside during his busy days ... and quiet nights.

Magnus didn’t have time to really build up to a proper state of anxiety about all of it, though, because Isabelle was already waiting in the Institute to greet him as he stepped out of the portal. Despite her cheery smile, Magnus could read an undercurrent of tension in Isabelle’s face. He smiled broadly at her in return.

“Magnus!” She reached out to clasp his hands. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Your message said it was an ‘Emergency with a capital E’,” Magnus said, making air quotes with his fingers, “so of course I came as soon as I could. I assumed that we would discuss terms of payment upon my arrival…?” Magnus winked, offered Isabelle his arm and casually quirked an eyebrow at her. As if all was normal between the two of them. As if he wasn’t the man who’d broken her big brother’s heart.

“Of course,” Isabelle replied, linking her arm through his. “But you should probably hear about the job first before you start deciding how much you’re going to have to charge.”

“Good point,” Magnus said as they began to walk together. “So, my dear, what terrible thing has you calling me at this unholy hour?” Magnus kept his tone light, hoping the problem would turn out to be an easy one. He still felt a bit off of his Greater Demon game after his last encounter with Azazel. Even closing the Edom rift had taken more out of him than he’d expected. All those consecutive restless nights alone, not sleeping well, might be catching up to him.

Isabelle’s lips tightened. Magnus stopped walking and pulled his arm away, frowning suspiciously as she turned to him.  “Isabelle. What is it? “

“I’m sorry, but there isn’t anyone else I can call,” Isabelle said before her face crumpled, her huge brown eyes blinking back tears. “Magnus, it's Alec. I think he might be dying."

* * *

 

As the door to Alec’s office opened, Magnus took a deep breath and leveled his shoulders. He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Destroyer of Marbas, Son of ... anyway, there was no reason for his stomach to be doing flip flops just from entering a Shadowhunter’s office.

Looking up from an abysmal stack of papers on his normally uncluttered desk, Alec’s eyes met Magnus’s for a split second, widening in shock. Then he quickly turned on his sister, his expression clouding. “What is _he_ doing here?” Alec said, rising slowly – unusually slowly, Magnus realized - from his chair.

“I called him,” Isabelle said. “You’re very sick, Alec. You need help. You need a warlock. I called the best warlock we know.”

“I’m not that sick,” Alec retorted, coming around to the front of his desk to face her. Magnus frowned. Alec’s movements were slow and careful; his normal athletic grace tempered. His range of motion seemed unusually reserved.

“You can’t keep anything down, you can’t sleep, half the time you can’t breathe, and you’re in constant pain all over.” Isabelle ticked off on her fingers, then crossed her arms, her eyes fixed firmly on Alec. Magnus knew that when it came to stubbornness not many people were a match for the eldest Lightwood son, but his sister was absolutely at the top of that list.

Magnus was used to people who were ill exaggerating their symptoms, both mortal and immortal. Raphael Santiago had come down with a brief case of vampire pox once, an innocuous demonic infection that caused some mild itching and was easily treatable. But from the way he’d carried on about it, one would have thought he’d been staked on a demonic ant hill, doused with holy water and left to burn.

This was something else entirely. Magnus had assumed that Isabelle’s description of Alec’s condition as “dying” was hyperbole - a way to convince both Magnus and herself that her call for warlock magic was legitimate. But now that Magnus was close enough to see him well, Alec looked shockingly gaunt. New hollows under his cheekbones were doubly accented by dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like he had lost twenty, maybe even thirty pounds.  Magnus had always appreciated how good Alec looked in his fitted black leather gear when they were dating; though he’d never directly mentioned that to Alec, he suspected it hadn’t been much of a secret. But now Alec’s clothing hung from his lanky frame. Shadowhunters were normally the very model of human physical fitness. The impact of seeing Alec looking so wasted was startling.

Alec lifted his hand and opened his mouth to respond but doubled over suddenly, slumping against his desk and coughing wetly. Isabelle placed a hand on his arm, her face wracked with concern. Alec shrugged it off. When she tried to hand Alec a glass of water he waved it away, wiping his mouth. Magnus didn’t miss the thin smear of blood that the gesture left on the back of Alec’s hand or the way his sleeve fluttered loosely around his forearm. He saw Alec’s knuckles whiten as he gripped the edge of the desk for support.

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “How long ago did these symptoms begin?”

“Two weeks,” Isabelle said. “Not that long,” Alec said simultaneously. They stared at each other for a heartbeat, then Alec looked down and away. “Two weeks,” Isabelle repeated. “The day after Luke’s party at The Hunter’s Moon. He managed to hide it from us for a few days before things really started going downhill, but he’s getting worse every day. _Iratzes_ don’t work. We’ve tried everything else we can think of, short of calling the Silent Brothers, which he won’t let us do.” Alec rolled his eyes. “Can you help him?” Isabelle stepped toward Magnus, hesitant, hopeful. “Will you help him?”

 _Can I? Of course. Should I?_ … The real question was whether Magnus could put aside his lingering personal feelings about Alec and treat this as a professional request. That, and of course whether or not Alec could put aside any of his own lingering feelings about Magnus and behave the same. But Magnus had to admit that Alec had continued to behave respectfully toward him since their breakup - even when Magnus hadn’t reciprocated that courtesy. Magnus mulled it over carefully; he had no reason to believe that Alec would purposefully make this any harder for either of them than it had to be.

Or maybe Magnus was just looking for any excuse to spend time with Alec. Magnus shouldn’t even have come when Isabelle called, and yet here he was against his own better judgment, standing before the one man Magnus had to deny to himself every day that he still loved. Alec Lightwood, lips stubbornly pressed together in a way so familiar it made Magnus ache, studiously avoiding eye contact. And possibly _dying._

The tiniest of cracks threatened to break through Magnus’s normally stoic veneer. The thought of Alec dying twisted Magnus’s stomach into knots. During the whole recent ordeal with the Edomai and Valentine, Magnus had felt himself pulled back toward Alec again and again despite his best efforts to remain aloof. When Alec’s parabatai bond with Jace had disappeared sending Alec crashing to the floor screaming with loss and pain, Magnus had rushed to Alec’s side without a moment’s hesitation. When they had portaled into Idris and seen the Angel Raziel rising above Lake Lyn Alec’s first words had been concern for Magnus’s safety, which Magnus knew was just Alec’s basic protective nature, but still found touching all the same. Despite all the painful and occasionally unkind words that had gone between them, neither could completely overcome their lingering instincts to watch out for each other. And Magnus knew that he couldn’t turn his back on Alec now.

This request had little to do with their roles as leaders of their people, or their previous relationship status; Alec was simply a person in trouble who needed Magnus’s help. If Magnus could just think of it like that, everything should be fine. Magnus allowed his shoulders to relax and his face to soften ever so slightly. Magnus had faced down a Prince of Hell once, and won … surely he could handle playing nursemaid to an ex-lover without screwing it up. He turned to Isabelle. “If Alec will agree to it, I will try.”

“He’ll agree,” Isabelle said firmly, echoes of Maryse Lightwood in her tone. She looked pointedly at her brother as if daring him to defy her.

Alec only nodded, still staring at the ground. Magnus saw Alec wince, his hand pressed to his ribs as he drew a rattling, shaky breath. Magnus also noted, with some concern, that Alec looked decidedly more green around the gills than he had when they’d first come in.

Magnus nodded. “Let’s get started. I doubt we have the luxury of time to waste.”

* * *

 

Alec’s bedroom was as Spartan as Magnus remembered. Perfectly tidy, perfectly functional, totally boring - except for one thing: a framed black and white photograph of the Eiffel Tower that hung on the wall opposite Alec’s bed. Magnus quickly looked away, but he was too late to stem the flood of memories that came rushing back.

He’d gifted Alec with that artwork after their first trip to Paris. It had been a beautiful evening, typical of springtime in that city. Alec had curled against him on their hotel balcony, gazing out at the sparkling lights of the Tower in silent awe for nearly an hour. Magnus had absently stroked his boyfriend’s silky black hair and pretended to be reading, desperate not to spoil the mood, eager for that small, perfect moment of peace to continue as long as possible. He was surprised to see that token of affection still hanging in Alec’s room. He wouldn’t have thought that Alec would want to remember – just thinking about it now brought a fresh twinge of pain to Magnus’s heart.

Magnus cleared his throat and came back to the business at hand. “If you wouldn’t mind,” he began, making a vague gesture toward Alec’s chest. “I need to get an idea of the extent of what we’re dealing with here. Could you-“ but Alec had already gripped the hem of his t-shirt and was pulling it slowly over his head.

Alec half turned, swaying a little, and dropped the shirt on the bed. As Magnus’s eyes traveled over Alec’s half-naked body, centuries of practice in concealing his emotions failed him. An involuntary gasp escaped his lips.

“Is it that bad?” Alec muttered, turning back toward him. Magnus looked up, meeting his eyes. This time Alec’s gaze did not flinch away.

Bad was definitely a word Magnus would have used. In fact it was potentially an understatement. Alec’s skin had always been pale but with a healthy pink undertone. Now it was so pale as to be nearly transparent, the black runes and white scars standing out in stark relief against his ghostly flesh. Delicate blue veins cut traceable maps across his arms and chest. The cut and toned warrior’s muscles had vanished. Alec’s delectable washboard abs that had tantalized Magnus’s dreams were nonexistent and his ribs were visible enough to be worrisome. Magnus could see Alec’s chest stuttering with the effort to breathe evenly, without coughing. No wonder Isabelle had been so desperate for help. An ache of sympathy swept through him.

“What’s happened to you?” Magnus said, stepping closer, not bothering to try to hide his concern. Alec had always been far too good at reading him anyway, and Alec already must know how dire things were if he was willing to accept Magnus’s help.

“I don’t know,” Alec said. “I don’t know anything. I thought I had a cold at first but it just kept getting worse. Nobody can tell what’s wrong with me and nothing we do makes me feel any better. But mostly, it’s that something about it … feels…” he trailed off, biting his lip.

Magnus stepped forward again. “Feels what, Alec?”

“Intentional,” Alec mumbled. “It feels - malevolent. Like someone _wants_ this to happen to me. When I lie down to try to sleep, I have this creeping feeling, like … like there’s a Greater Demon under my bed, waiting for me to fall asleep so it can drag me to Hell.”

“You never said anything about that before,” Isabelle said from the doorway. Alec jumped a little at her voice; Magnus was surprised to realize he had also forgotten she was there. It had always been a problem when they were in the same room together: Magnus’s world could unconsciously narrow to just Alec at the exclusion of all else. That was one key reason why Magnus had felt he needed to end their romantic relationship when it had looked like war between their races would be inevitable. Magnus had trouble seeing the big picture sometimes, whenever Alec was around.

Alec’s pale cheeks flushed. “It sounds stupid.”

Magnus shook his head quickly. “No, it doesn’t.” He pressed his fingertips together, more as a preventative to keep himself from reaching out to Alec than anything else. “It sounds like … well, before I start diagnosing things, I need to examine you more thoroughly. Please lie down on the bed.” He started to shrug off his jacket, but Alec hesitated, flushing more deeply. “It’s better if you lie down,” Magnus said quickly, perhaps too quickly, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair. “You’ll feel an intense tingling sensation during the exam. You’ll be more comfortable on the bed.”

Alec sighed and turned to lie down. Magnus unbuttoned his sleeves and began to roll them up. “What I’m going to do first,” Magnus said calmly as Alec settled back against the pillows, “is try to determine if this malady has a physical cause or a magical one.”

“Magical?” Alec asked, incredulously.

“Yes, like a curse or a hex, something like that.”

“But Shadowhunters have runes that protect us from those things,” Alec said, frowning.

“Runes are not foolproof, Alec,” Magnus said, stepping to the bedside and stretching his neck in preparation for the spell. “The universe likes balance. For every protective magic there exists an equally strong destructive magic. Most of the time the two sides cancel each other out, reaching equilibrium. But there are some very clever and very evil people out there. We start getting into trouble when those people find creative ways to take things out of balance.”

Alec swallowed and nodded. “Now,” Magnus said, taking a deep breath and flexing his fingers. “Like I said, this is going to tingle a bit.”

* * *

 

 _Tingle_ was an understatement, Alec thought as the soft blue haze of Magnus’s magic trailed over his skin. It felt like thousands of tiny pinpricks everywhere the light touched. The sensation was more intense than he’d expected, bordering on overwhelming. But then, that was par for the course. Things with Magnus were always more intense than Alec expected.

Magnus frowned in deep concentration, his dark eyes traveling over Alec’s chest and stomach. Alec closed his eyes, suddenly self-conscious about his changed appearance. Magnus, of course, looked exactly the same as the last time Alec had seen him. Magnus never looked anything less than stunning. Alec pushed the thought away.

Alec knew he’d lost a lot of weight since his clothes were practically falling off.  Eating had turned into a struggle. Food tasted like ash in Alec’s mouth nowadays. At first he had been able to force himself to eat, whenever Jace sat glowering at him or Izzy pleaded with him. But now things had progressed to the point that he couldn’t keep any food down for long at all.

It really had started as what he thought was just a hangover or a cold, possibly even food poisoning after Luke’s party (Jade Wolf catering wasn’t always the most reliable). It was unusual but not unheard of for Nephilim to become mundanely ill.  Alec had awakened that next morning with an ache in his head and stomach, followed quickly by a tightness in his throat and a rasping cough that gradually worsened until he couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep. He’d done the usual things Shadowhunters did to ward off illness - runes, herbs, but none of them had worked.

Yet he’d continued working his normal hours for a while, powering through on coffee and willpower. There was so much that needed to be done to rebuild the Shadow World after Valentine’s death. He’d managed to keep the increasing severity of his illness to himself for several days, until he’d gone into a training room to drill with Rosewain – in hindsight, one of his stupider moves - and had ended up on his back, gasping, within seconds. He’d excused himself and passed out in his bedroom, waking up hours later groggy and in a cold sweat, Jace’s concerned face looming over him and Isabelle threatening to call their parents in from Idris if he didn’t tell them what was going on.

They’d combined their efforts after that, although to no avail. Izzy had spent hours doing research into obscure Shadowhunter sicknesses, sending Jace running out for various medical supplies while both of them took on extra work to cover for him. Clary had even slipped him some mundane painkillers one day, which did absolutely nothing for him whatsoever. The ache had spread quickly through all his muscles and joints, then permeated his bones. More recently he’d started feeling like there was water in his lungs threatening to drown him. If he shifted off his carefully constructed wedge of pillows when he did manage to catch a few minutes of sleep, he’d jolt awake gasping and choking for air. This morning he’d fallen half asleep in his office and woke with a start, having daydreamed that smooth, glassy vines were curling around his chest and throat slowly cutting off his breath. Izzy had found him, head down on his desk, moaning and pale. That had apparently been the final straw that triggered her call to Magnus.

Alec had to grudgingly admit that the situation had reached a critical point. He was going to have to send a request to Alicante to assign Jace as his temporary delegate while they worked to find a cure for whatever had him in its grasp. Maybe some time off would do him good, he thought. He’d been keeping long hours, working night and day to keep his mind occupied. It certainly hadn’t helped him get better any faster. But the space that opened up in Alec’s life when Magnus had left him had been too big to fill any other way. Throwing himself into work had been his life before Magnus, and it hadn’t been all bad; he figured it may as well be his life after Magnus, too.

The sudden absence of the insistent prickling sensation was jarring when Magnus’s probing magic died away. Alec opened his eyes. Magnus stood above him, staring down at Alec’s body, hands extended and immovable as a stone. One small, almost imperceptible line furrowing between his brows was the only sign of expression on his face, but it was a sign that Alec knew very well: whatever Magnus had seen alarmed him and he was making an effort not to show it.

Alec cleared his throat. His mouth tasted like chalk; his tongue was as dry as dust. “Find anything interesting?”

Magnus stepped back from the bed, clasping his hands together, one finger raised to his mouth, his lips pressed into a thin line. Magnus not having a ready comeback or an easy answer was another sign that Alec unfortunately recognized. Magnus turned and paced a few steps away, then back. Alec waited, increasingly tense and unhappy, for Magnus to respond.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” Magnus eventually began, looking first at Isabelle, then at Alec. “You’ve definitely been cursed. But it’s like nothing I’ve seen before. This particular curse is complex. It’s tied around you in knots. You can visualize it as a … as a spider’s web, made up of hundreds of tiny silken threads looped around each other in overlapping patterns. The roots where the curse connects to you are concentrated in your chest, which is why you’re having so many breathing problems. But it’s radiating out from there and running along your nerve endings, infiltrating all of your organs and systems. That’s what’s causing you pain. Over time, the curse is tightening - drawing in on itself.”

“What does that mean?” Izzy broke in, rising to her feet.

Magnus held up his hand, his eyes not leaving Alec’s. “It means that Alexander’s life is being strangled out of him, more and faster every day, and that we’d better hope that we can remove it fast. Otherwise –“ Magnus paused. Alec saw the briefest flicker of worry move over Magnus’s face, but just that small glimpse shook him. Not through the whole ordeal of increasing breathlessness and pain had Alec felt as unsettled as upon realizing that Magnus Bane was afraid.

“Otherwise what?” Isabelle darted to the bedside, took Alec’s cold, clammy hand in her warm grasp. “Magnus! Is Alec going to die?”

Magnus swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Isabelle. If this curse cannot be untangled, and soon, Alec will die.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hopefully we can work around that part."

“If you would have let me call him sooner it might not have gotten this far,” Izzy scolded Alec as she shoved a handful of his t-shirts into a black duffel bag.

“How many times do you want me to say you were right?” Alec sighed, handing over his toothbrush to be tucked in alongside the rest.

Naturally, Magnus couldn’t work to resolve Alec’s curse most effectively within the Institute. There were too many wards for some of his warlock magic to work properly, not to mention too many prying eyes who would spread gossip that could negatively impact Alec’s efforts to repair the Institute’s current political situation with the New York Downworld. So while Izzy helped Alec pack a few things in an overnight bag, Magnus was portaling Jace to Idris with notification of Jace’s appointed deputy status, a temporary leave request for Alec and a reassuring message for Robert and Maryse. At least his sister’s worried nagging was distracting him from the fierce anxiety Alec felt at having to leave with Magnus. He knew deep down that the best place for him would be at the penthouse where Magnus had ready supplies, books and other resources. But Alec hadn’t set foot inside Magnus’s home since Magnus had left him. He’d stood on the doorstep when Max had been injured, begging Magnus for help, but he hadn’t been invited inside. Magnus had closed the door, fetched his coat, then portaled them both back to the Institute from the hallway. The idea of going back to Magnus’s now, like this, wrenched Alec’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” Izzy said. “I’m just worried. I love you.”

“I know,” Alec said, pulling her close in a careful side hug. “I love you too.” Despite his caution, a jolt of pain shot through Alec’s body at the contact. He made a heroic effort not to flinch. Izzy was upset enough already. There was no need to worry her more by showing how much discomfort he was really in.

A sharp rap came at the door, and Magnus entered, his face a mask of calm neutrality. Magnus had shown no further glimpses of emotion after diagnosing Alec’s impending death-by-curse; in fact Magnus had barely made eye contact with him again. Alec’s anxiety whirled faster, his stomach sinking. He was sure that Magnus didn’t want to take Alec home with him any more than Alec wanted to go. But there wasn’t any other choice; not if Alec wanted to live, which was at least the one sure thing that Alec knew he wanted. At least it seemed that Magnus wanted Alec to live, too, which was some small consolation. Magnus might not want to be with Alec anymore, but at least there was one thing still consistent about their interactions: Magnus didn’t want him dead.

“I’ve sent a message to Catarina Loss. She’s going to meet us at my place in a couple of hours.” Magnus took Izzy’s hand in farewell. “She’s the best warlock healer I’ve ever known. We will figure this out, I promise.”

“Please do, Magnus,” Izzy whispered, blinking back tears. “Please.”  
  
Magnus pressed her hand, then dropped it and gestured in Alec’s direction. “Ready to go?”

 “I really wish you would let me shower first,” he grumbled, but Magnus only shook his head.

“We don’t have time for that, Alec. I meant it when I said we need to get this curse off of you as soon as possible. I’ve got to get started now so that when Catarina comes, we already have a jump on things.” The purple glow of portal magic started to swirl in front of Alec. Izzy squeezed his hand fiercely one last time.

“You’re going to wish there’d been time when you realize I smell worse than Jace’s gym laundry,” Alec muttered, picking up his bag.

“You always have a romantic turn of phrase at the ready, don’t you?” Magnus quipped, glancing sideways at him. Alec felt the corner of his mouth twitch, but steeled himself. Portal travel was best undertaken in as calm a frame of mind as possible, which had been an unfortunate lesson for a still-nervous Alec on their second date. Magnus was just trying to lighten the mood and relax Alec so the portal trip didn’t cause him to toss his pitiful breakfast in the penthouse when he landed.

Magnus had been understanding and kind on that date, not laughed or made his embarrassment any worse as Alec had stumbled out of the portal and vomited all over a beach in Rio. Magnus had simply patted Alec’s shoulder, asked if he was OK, conjured up some peppermints and then taken his hand to walk with him down the beach. It had been a beautiful, wonderful day.

Alec swallowed hard, blinking as he pushed the now-painful memory away. He took a slow breath in as deeply as he could bear, then let it out, trying to make the tension drain from his body. Magnus gestured for him to go ahead. After one final smile for his sister, Alec stepped forward into the portal’s dizzying grasp.

* * *

 

 “I’m sorry,” Alec moaned, clinging to the back of the nearest armchair as blue tendrils of magic cleared away the remains of his unfortunately unsettled stomach, unceremoniously deposited on Magnus’s favorite Persian rug upon arrival. “I – couldn’t -“

“It’s alright, Alec,” Magnus tried to sound reassuring. “It isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have portaled us without asking if you could handle the trip.” Magnus narrowed his eyes, noting the sweat breaking out on Alec’s face, the pale white lines around his lips – involuntary signs that Alec, despite his best efforts, could not hide. Magnus had realized when he’d first seen the glittering strands of the deadly curse winding around Alec’s body that things were pretty bad. But things were turning out to be worse than he’d thought. Alec was much, much sicker than he had been letting on. Things had progressed even faster than Magnus had initially suspected. Magnus shook his head slightly. It explained why Alec hadn’t restarted their Downworld Council meetings yet. Hiding his weaknesses was second nature for Alec, but as usual, that tendency was working against him. So brave. So stubborn. So … Alec.

Magnus motioned toward the chair. “Sit down, please. I’m going to make you some tea. It will make you a little more comfortable.”

“I don’t think I can handle tea,” Alec groaned. He sank down into the cushions and dropped his pale face into his hands.

“You’ll be able to handle this,” Magnus said, disappearing into the kitchen. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m too tired to worry,” Alec sighed, just loud enough for Magnus to hear and just heartbreakingly enough to pull at the Warlock’s beleaguered conscience.

Letting the door swing shut behind him, Magnus collected several bundles of dried herbs and a few vials of specialty powders out of his kitchen cabinets, then set about combining them into a blend that he hoped might be able to temporarily block at least some of the effects of Alec’s curse. He was grateful for his ability to be focused and deliberate when working. It was second nature by now for Magnus to turn off his emotions when using magic. Emotional instability in the caster could wreak havoc on any spell with destructive consequences, and Magnus knew that better than most.

Magnus concentrated on the cast iron teapot in front of him, feeling heat start to build in the water. Controlling strong emotions while working with magic was the first thing he’d learned from the Silent Brothers as a child and remained the most important lesson they’d ever taught him. He’d lost track of how many times that training had almost certainly kept him from blowing up everyone and everything around him. It was definitely saving him now, keeping him focused when all he wanted to think about was how much he had missed Alec, how guilty he felt about the way things had been left between them, and how terrifying it was to think that Alec could be dying.

The idea that someone could hate Alexander Lightwood so much that they would curse him in this painful, debilitating way brought up a jolt of simmering anger within Magnus, which he quickly worked to quash. Regardless of how their relationship had ended, he hadn’t ever wished for Alec to be hurt. Magnus shook his head and concentrated harder. He couldn’t risk an overflow of emotion impacting the efficacy of the tea.

Within a few minutes, golden steam curled out of the pot, signifying that the process was complete. Magnus returned to the living room with the pot and Alec sat up, wrinkling his nose at the smell: licorice, which Magnus knew had never been his favorite, with herbal undertones of freshly cut grass and something faintly sour.

Magnus poured the tea into a small cup and set it in front of Alec. Alec’s lips curled, his face taking on a faint greenish tone. “By the Angel, Magnus, why does it smell like that? I can’t drink this.”

“You can and you must,” Magnus said. “It will help.” He kept his tone even but firm. Alec’s shoulders slumped, but he reached for the cup and brought it to his mouth. At the first taste he grimaced, but as Magnus watched, the effects spread through Alec’s system. A tiny bit of color came back to Alec’s pale cheeks. His hunched back straightened, his shallow breathing slowed and deepened.

“It does feel better,” Alec said thoughtfully. “The pain isn’t as strong. I can breathe more easily.”

“It isn’t a cure,” Magnus cautioned. “This will only ease your symptoms. But the curse itself will continue to progress until we find out how to break it.”

Alec finished the tea quickly, then stared mournfully at the empty cup. “This is the first thing I’ve been able to keep down for days.”

“I don’t want you to drink too much at first, “Magnus said. “We need to see how you respond to it. If all goes well, you can drink the entire pot if you like.”

“ _Like_ isn’t the word I’d choose. That stuff’s foul,” Alec replied. “I just didn't realize how thirsty I've been, until now.”

Magnus snapped his fingers. A pitcher of water and glass of ice appeared on the coffee table. For the first time since they’d seen each other that day, Alec smiled at Magnus. “Thanks,” he said wryly, his elegant fingers reaching for the glass. “Who knew dying would be so dehydrating.”

With the word _dying_ reverberating through his heart like a too-tight guitar string snapping, Magnus couldn’t find it within himself to smile back.

* * *

 

Alec was lying in a field of tall grass, pale yellow flowers peeking through the tan and green stalks. For the first time in days, no part of his body hurt. The strong herbal smell of Magnus’s tea permeated Alec’s senses. The sun shone down on him as he relaxed, feet crossed, arms tucked behind his head. As he lay quietly, long tendrils of grass snaked over his limbs, soft tickles of sensation drawing around his arms and legs. The grass seemed to shimmer and move as if it were alive. He felt as if the blades were trying to tighten around him, to pull and to squeeze. But the tendrils couldn’t quite take hold. They kept slipping off his skin. He watched them slide across his body in undulating patterns, fascinated.

“Come on,” Magnus’s voice said, from somewhere far away. Something that felt like fingers lightly touched the back of Alec’s neck. They were strong, warm. “Alec.”

“Mmmm,” Alec murmured, turning his head toward the touch, marveling at how real the dream felt. “I missed you so much.”

“You can be as charming as you like, but I’m not carrying you,” Magnus’s voice said, sounding amused. “Alec, _wake up.”_ Alec’s eyes flew open with a start.

He was sprawled across the armchair, one leg thrown up over the side. Magnus was kneeling beside him, one hand on the back of Alec’s neck, expression inscrutable. _Oh god,_ Alec thought, _oh god. Did I say that out loud? Oh god._

“I’m sorry I can’t let you just stay sleeping here,” Magnus went on calmly, as if Alec hadn’t just sleep-talked about his broken heart and embarrassed himself beyond measure. “I know you probably need the rest. But Catarina will be here soon, and I need to move you to the bedroom where we’ll have more space to work.” Magnus’s mouth twitched, as if suppressing a smirk. “I can’t carry you there. I need to save as much energy as I can for what’s ahead.”

Alec blinked rapidly. “Oh. Right.” He sat up as Magnus’s hand fell away. Alec felt the absence of that touch as keenly as he’d felt its presence, but the moment abruptly vanished as he pitched sideways, dizzy.

Magnus darted forward and caught him, his arms snaking around Alec’s chest to stop him from hitting the floor. Alec’s hand flew up reflexively to Magnus’s forearm, steadying himself while the room spun around them.

“Whoa, whoa,” Magnus said, patting Alec’s shoulder gently. “Easy there. Go slow.” But then Alec saw something change in Magnus’s face: he suddenly looked startled, almost panicked.

Of course Magnus was upset, Alec thought grimly. Magnus had been very clear during their breakup, and up to now had remained very clear that he no longer wanted any part of a romantic relationship with Alec. Magnus had avoided him and been cool to him, even sometimes being downright rude. Alec had known that was part of Magnus’s defense mechanisms, though: to throw up a wall that no one could break down just to keep himself protected. And Alec had done his best to respect that, staying away from Magnus as much as possible, finding other warlocks to hire for small tasks or sending Clary or Izzy as a delegate on his behalf when Magnus’s input was needed. The day Valentine had finally been defeated, Isabelle had tried to convince Alec to go and ask Magnus for help. But Alec hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it so Izzy had gone instead. They’d been able to work together effectively. Magnus had even stayed with them at great personal risk to help them find Jace and Clary in Idris. Magnus had been kind and concerned when Alec had collapsed at Jace’s death, although Alec had been so overwhelmed by emotions and pain that he hadn’t thought to thank Magnus until long after the moment had passed. By then it had been too late, and Magnus was already gone home to freshen up and recover.

Later, at the party at the Hunter’s Moon Alec had watched Magnus from a distance, the warlock drinking and laughing and talking with Downworlders and Shadowhunters alike. They’d exchanged a glance across the room once during that evening; Magnus had given him a polite nod which Alec had unhesitatingly returned. Magnus had seemed more relaxed at the party. Alec had briefly let himself entertain the idea of going over and engaging Magnus in polite conversation in a public place. He’d wondered if maybe it would be a good way to open the door toward healing at least their friendship, if nothing else. After all, Magnus had said that he loved Alec, even as he’d turned to walk away and leave Alec’s heart in pieces. Alec had let himself have a small glimmer of hope, that maybe they could make a small start … but no matter how many times Alec had looked again, he hadn’t been able to catch Magnus alone. After a few more handshakes and congratulatory conversations, Alec had made his excuses and gone home.

Yet now here they were, Alec betrayed by his own physical weakness, wrapped awkwardly around each other with him staring into Magnus’s eyes like an idiot. Magnus was obviously doing everything he could to keep the walls up between them; he’d been trying so hard not to touch Alec at all and Alec had blundered right into his arms. Alec felt his cheeks grow hot and hoped Magnus would simply think that he was flushed from the dizzy spell. “Thanks,” he said shakily. “I’ve got this.” Alec gently but firmly pushed Magnus’s arms away and got slowly to his feet. He started toward the bedroom, concentrating on the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other while hoping desperately not to stumble. That was how Alec missed the fleeting look of hurt that flashed over Magnus’s face before the warlock regained control of himself and followed.

* * *

 

Instinct had driven Magnus forward when Alec almost fell out of the armchair; it had been a purely reflexive action. He’d done the same when Alec had collapsed over Jace; Alec had done the same for Magnus when he had collapsed after using too much magic. It seemed to be just what polite people in society did when other people fell down, to try to catch them no matter how awkward their personal situations may be. Magnus hadn’t thought anything of it until Alec had stiffened at their physical closeness and pushed him away. It had stung, but it made sense that Alec wouldn’t want to be touched by a lover that had rejected him. Magnus knew he deserved to be pushed away. In fact Magnus believed he deserved far worse for having broken Alec’s heart. But now was not the time for emotional wallowing. There were still centuries of time enough ahead of him for that.

The physical rejection wasn’t the only thing bothering Magnus, though. He’d been shocked in that moment at how light Alec felt in his arms. As if Alec’s bones were somehow hollow, like a bird’s. Yes, the formerly buff Shadowhunter had lost a lot of weight and muscle from the wasting effects of the curse. But it was more than that. Magnus had suddenly known with a frightening certainty that Alec wasn’t just losing his physical strength to the curse.

Alec was losing his soul.

* * *

 

“It isn’t good,” Catarina said, collapsing onto the sofa. She propped her feet up on the coffee table as Magnus approached her with fresh martinis in hand. “It isn’t good at all.”

“I know,” Magnus sighed, handing her a drink and sitting down across from her. “I’ve never seen anything like this. So crude, so complex. So … malevolent.” He chose Alec’s own word, which was the best descriptor Magnus could find for the dark magic winding itself around his former lover. The two warlocks had worked diligently all through the night, patiently trying various spells, incantations, lotions, potions, charms and enchantments to untangle the curse from Alec’s body. A pile of books and scrolls littered the bedroom floor as they pored over texts both ancient and modern, looking for clues that might tell them how to proceed. But they had made no progress at all: even when one or both of them could catch hold of part of the weave and pull, the shimmering strands repaired themselves at every turn. Catarina had seemed confident at first that they’d be able to find a solution. But her even positive demeanor was turning grim. The curse refused to be unwound. Alec’s condition was worsening with every hour.

Alec had dozed on and off through the process, pale and restless. Fevers had started to come and go, a new symptom which left Alec alternately sweating then shivering under their blanketing magic. Magnus swore softly under his breath. There had to be something they could do. Something they were missing. No curse was unbeatable; there was always an out. One only had to _find_ it.

“This curse was made with intention. There are _layers_ in it.” Catarina shook her head. “Someone really has it in for this kid, eating away his body and soul. Does he have a lot of enemies?”

Magnus shrugged, bone tired. “Who doesn’t, these days?”

“Speak for yourself.” She toyed idly with her martini glass, watching the light play along its stem.

Magnus stared down at his own drink. “I’ve sent a message to Jace. Clary and Luke are on their way to question the Seelies.”

Catarina snorted. “Good luck with that.” She frowned. “It doesn’t really feel like faerie magic. But I can’t really pinpoint what it does feel like. Sometimes it almost feels … demonic. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“I agree that the Seelies are probably a dead end. But we don’t have many other choices,” Magnus said. “We can’t just go strolling into Hell and start asking demons if they know anything.” He rolled his neck and shoulders, stretching out the ache that had been building there. “We’ve been trying to untie those knots for hours. They just keep reforming. Almost like a Hydra when you cut off one head and two grow back in its place.” Magnus paused as the sound of Alec’s deep, racking cough came from the other room. Magnus waited, holding his breath, until the sound died away. He fought back a surge of pity and anger.

“The tea will only keep him comfortable for a little while longer,” Catarina said. She leaned forward and set her drink down. Her face took on the professional blankness of a person used to delivering bad news. “Magnus, this has already gone so far, and it’s speeding up … he’s only got a couple of days left, at best. He’s only still alive even now because he’s Nephilim and his body and soul are stronger than most. A mundane would have been dead days ago. If we can’t reverse this -”

Magnus closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I know,” he sighed. “I know.”

Catarina studied him for a moment, then stood. “I’m going to the Spiral Labyrinth.” She gathered up her things as Magnus rose to his feet. “There was something I heard about once. A knife that could cut through anything. Maybe that anything includes including a soul-withering curse.”

“Made by Wayland the Smith?” Magnus asked thoughtfully, but Catarina shook her head. “No - this knife allegedly was discovered many years ago with a warlock boy who appeared out of nowhere. He claimed he could travel between worlds by cutting through dimensional fabric with the blade. It isn’t made from _adamas_ or any metal known to us. The boy only said it came from the stars.”

Catarina waved her hand and a portal appeared, shimmering. “Anyway, even if it doesn’t exist maybe the scholars at the Labyrinth know something from the histories that can help us.”

“Cat,” Magnus said, frowning. “If this knife exists and it is as powerful as you say, why isn’t it constantly being used by the Labyrinth? Why haven’t I heard of it before?”

“Because the legends also claim that anyone who’s ever tried to use it to do magic has been instantly burned to ash,” she said matter-of-factly. Magnus stared at her, horrified.

“Hopefully we can work around that part,” Catarina acknowledged, stepping toward the portal. She held Magnus’s gaze without hesitation or apology.  “Right now, it may be our only hope.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you put it that way, it does sound dire.”

Alec downed yet another cup of barely palatable tea. He reached for the pot again only to find it empty. He’d drank the whole thing already. Alec sighed.

The tea didn’t completely take away all of his pain and weakness. It took away enough of it to help him function better, although a whole pot sometimes made him feel kind of floaty and spaced out. But the aching dark feeling that had been hovering about him for days always came back as the tea wore off. He felt weaker and weaker as the hours passed. The time that he could get by in between cups – or whole pots, now, apparently - was growing shorter.

He hadn’t slept well the previous night while Magnus and Catarina had worked on breaking the curse. Every time Magnus saw his eyes open, Alec would have to drink more tea and then he’d eventually fade out again into a light, fitful doze. Alec could remember brief glimpses of Magnus’s face, focused and determined above him. He could remember snatches of Catarina’s musical voice murmuring all around him. He’d opened his eyes once and seen them standing together, heads bent over a bundle of what looked like dried branches with smoke coming out of it. The smoke had been sweetly tangy and it made his chest burn. When he’d coughed, Magnus had gone for the teapot again. Alec rubbed his eyes. He was already tired of that damn tea.

Catarina’s magic had felt different than Magnus’s. Catarina’s was beautifully soothing. It enveloped Alec’s entire body quickly but softly, like the sensation of sinking down into a warm bath. Magnus’s was slightly less warm but more invigorating, like a brisk massage across different areas of his skin. He could feel soft tugging sensations sometimes when he was awake through their efforts. There were tiny little bursts of static sometimes too, that made all the hairs stand up on his body. Combined, it all made falling asleep quite challenging.

At some point they’d left him alone and he’d finally slept deeply for several hours in a row. But he had woken up confused and unsure of where he was, shaking off vividly terrifying dreams that he could _feel_ but not quite remember. It was afternoon of the next day, but Catarina wasn’t there. When Alec had asked where she’d gone Magnus had just said she was on an errand and would be back soon. It seemed there was not much that Magnus could do for Alec alone, and he was certainly worn out as well from using so much magic for so long. So Magnus was busy elsewhere in the penthouse while Alec sat propped up in the bedroom and tried to choke down some food.

At least while the tea was working in his system, Alec could keep the food down. Magnus had been constantly asking him if he was hungry and bringing in whatever he thought would tempt Alec to eat. Unfortunately no matter what Magnus tried, all food tasted like chalk to Alec. Even just chewing and swallowing took more effort than he wanted to expend. Maybe he was imagining it, but Alec thought his throat felt a tighter and his breathing more restricted every time the tea started to wear off. He still managed to chew and swallow a few mouthfuls whenever food was presented to him, if only to keep Magnus from hanging about in the bedroom and insisting that he eat. There were only so many things they could say to each other about the food or how Alec was feeling or what new possible leads Magnus was researching. The more time they spent together the less safe topics remained for them to talk about. The silences between them were getting longer and more uncomfortable. It made Alec sad. He shoved aside the bowl of noodles he’d been picking at, lay back on the pillows, and idly started running over Institute budget reports in his head.

Alec didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he must have floated off with the tea again because when he opened them the room had taken on the soft glow of twilight. Apparently despite all his efforts to stay awake, Alec’s body wanted to catch up on two weeks’ worth of sleep all at once. He rolled over, feeling the returning pain tug at his ribs and his legs. To his surprise there was Magnus curled up on a chaise next to the bed, arm hanging limply over the side and fast asleep.

Worn-looking old papers in different scripts and different languages lay scattered around Magnus. Alec’s chest constricted as memories came flooding back. He’d awoken several times in the past to a scene just like this one: Magnus doing exhaustive research on some problem through the day and late into the night. Only the difference back then was that he’d been in the bed next to Alec, head pillowed on Alec’s chest, papers scattered over them both and sliding along the sheets with the rise and fall of their sleepy breaths. Alec had always quietly gathered the papers back up into some sort of order (extra thankful for the stacks that had some sort of intuitive numbering system, at least) and put them aside so that none of them would get damaged. That way Magnus could find them easily again when he woke. And Magnus had always thanked him the next morning, yawning and stretching with cat-like grace, pulling him down for a sleepy kiss.

It was the clearest single image Alec had kept of his former lover: Magnus at rest, an uncharacteristic softness drawn over his face. The look he got when he was doing something that made him happy. Alec studied Magnus’s face more closely, taking advantage of the unexpected opportunity. There were subtle differences from the last time he’d seen Magnus, but so subtle that others who hadn’t spent hours of their lifetimes just staring at Magnus Bane might not have seen them. Magnus’s hair was not any more tousled than usual from sleep, but it looked like it needed washing. No colorful highlights gleamed anywhere – just the pure, silky black of Magnus’s natural hair (at least, Alec thought it was his natural color – one could never tell, with Magnus). It meant that Magnus had been too focused on work to think about his hair - which _never_ happened. Magnus’s blue eyeliner was a tiny bit smeared and that drew Alec’s attention to the deepening circles under his closed eyes. Magnus looked, although peaceful, exhausted in a way that Alec couldn’t remember ever seeing. Not after helping them with Luke’s Alpha transformation, not even after helping them battle the enormous flying demons that had been loosed upon their shared city just a short time ago.

Alec frowned. Magnus shouldn’t look so drained. How much magic had Magnus been using on him? If only Alec hadn’t been so out of it so much of the time. Had Magnus himself been eating and sleeping? Or had he spent the past day and a half only draining his own energy trying to remove Alec’s curse? Alec wished he could do something. Maybe he could help with research, if he could stay awake and focused long enough to read. If Magnus even had anything in a language he _could_ read. Alec hated nothing quite so much as lying around uselessly. Alec was used to saving others, not this other way around.

His eyes drifted to Magnus’s elegant hands, relaxed in sleep. He remembered seeing them moving above him the previous night during his brief flashes of consciousness. He thought about how they contrasted with Catarina’s hands, her shorter fingers and softer magic. As Alec stared at Magnus’s fingers, his brain started picking at that puzzle again: where had Catarina gone? Why would she have left Magnus here with him alone for so long? What could have called her away in the middle of an urgent case? Unless …

 _Unless there’s no way to break this curse,_ Alec realized. _Unless I’m dying for good and Catarina knows that, and Magnus isn’t telling me the truth about why she’s gone because he doesn’t want me to be afraid._ Alec’s heart ached suddenly. Shadowhunters faced death almost daily, but this time was different. There were so many reasons that Alec wanted to stay alive. There were still so many things left undone, unsaid.

 _This isn’t how it’s supposed to end,_ he thought sadly.

“I’ve seen that look before,” Magnus murmured, his voice honeyed with the thick of sleep. Alec’s breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped; he hadn’t realized Magnus had awakened and caught him staring. “What’s bothering you, Shadowhunter?” Alec could detect no trace of the sarcasm that Magnus had lately attached to that title. It threw him, a little.

 “I, uh,” Alec rolled away onto his back again, momentarily confused, ignoring the protests from his aching limbs. “I just didn’t expect to see you there, that’s all.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, a familiar gentle reprimand in his drowsy tone. “I know your face.”

Alec turned his head so that their eyes met. Magnus’s eyes looked even more shadowed when they were open, probably mirroring Alec’s own exhaustion. There were so many things Alec wanted to say, but –

 _Wait. If I really am dying,_ Alec thought suddenly, _then what’s the point? What is there to be scared of anymore?_

“Why did Catarina leave?” Alec asked, and he saw a flicker of uncertainty move across Magnus’s tired face.

“She had –“

“An errand, you told me. An errand that’s already taken the whole day.” Alec shifted onto his side again, wincing despite his best efforts as multiple jolts of pain shot across his ribs and up his spine. Despite the deepening twilight, the room wasn’t yet dark enough for Magnus’s expression to be hidden from Alec. What Alec saw there surprised him: concern, sadness, and a hint of longing. Magnus had seen Alec react to the pain; in that moment Alec understood that it hurt Magnus to see him like this.

But no matter how sorry Magnus felt for him, Alec wanted the truth, and he knew Magnus would give it to him if he asked.

Alec held Magnus’s sleepy gaze evenly with his own for a long moment before he spoke again.

“I’m going to die.” 

* * *

 

It wasn’t a question.

 _Well, you did ask what was bothering him, you sentimental idiot,_ Magnus thought. He cleared his throat to try to buy a few seconds to compose his thoughts, cursing his own vulnerability. He should never have fallen asleep. No, worse, he should never have let Alec know that he was awake. Drowsiness was like truth serum, even for warlocks. Having conversations before one was fully awake was a terrible idea. The outcomes were rarely ever good.

“Alec –“

“Please don’t lie to me,” Alec interrupted him, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again they were bright, almost feverish. “Please Magnus, not now. Can’t we do this the right way just once?”

Magnus swallowed hard. This was not the kind of conversation he ever wanted to have with anyone, at any time. Especially not Alec, and especially not with the way things had been left between them. But Alec was right. Now was not the time for equivocation or evasion. There could be very few remaining opportunities left for truth now; Magnus looked at Alec’s open, beseeching expression and knew with a fierce certainty that he would eternally regret wasting a single one.

“You are dying,” Magnus said simply, “and I am trying like hell to stop it.”

“But you can’t,” Alec replied, calmly. “Even you can’t stop this, Magnus.”

“I - _we_ haven’t been able to stop it yet, no. Once a curse is created it becomes an entity unto itself; not unlike a living, growing thing. A rooted curse soon becomes independent of its maker to the point that even the caster cannot call it back. The curse will continue along its path until it achieves its programmed end, which in this case unfortunately seems to be the act of killing you - and destroying your soul.” Alec blanched at that new information; they hadn’t told him about his soul before. Magnus took a deep breath, and continued.

“We can keep deflecting it in various ways. Like the tea, which helps your symptoms and keeps you able to fight it, even if just a little. We’ve been able to use some refractory spells to freeze its advance for a few minutes here and there, buy ourselves small increments of time by slowing its progression. We might even be able to find a way to transfer it, but if –“

“Transfer it?” Alec interrupted. “What do you mean?”

Magnus hesitated, then continued, speaking carefully. “We did find a spell that might allow us to transfer the curse in its entirety to another living person. That could buy us an extra few days. Nephilim are remarkably strong and well protected by your runes, even though in this case they can’t heal you completely. If you were anyone but a Shadowhunter you would have been dead days ago. If we were to transfer the curse to another –“

“No,” Alec said without batting an eye. “No! Magnus, you can’t. Promise me that you won’t transfer this to anyone else.” His strong jaw set, eyes flashing with steely determination. “I can’t let you do that.”

“I knew that you would feel that way. That’s why I didn’t offer it to you as an option, until now.” Magnus took a deep breath. Alec had never thought to put his own needs before another’s, not during the whole short span of his mortal life. Magnus had known without needing to ask, that Alec wouldn’t consider to start doing so even now. Jace, Isabelle, possibly even Robert or Maryse – any single one or even all of those who loved Alec wouldn’t have hesitated to offer themselves up for transfer in order to buy him more time. But Magnus also knew that Alexander would rather die than put someone else in harm’s way.

“Meanwhile, Catarina has gone to the Spiral Labyrinth. She thinks she may know how to cut through the magic that’s binding this curse to you. She just has to find what she needs in time. It shouldn’t be much longer now.” Magnus hoped his words sounded more convincing than he felt.

There was a long pause, before Alec spoke again.

“Is it hurting you, helping me?”

The question startled Magnus. “What? Of course it isn’t-“

“Magnus, you’re exhausted,” Alec said. “If you had any energy left to look at yourself in the mirror you’d be mortified.” His lips twitched. “I don’t know how to break this to you, but your eyeliner is smudged and your hair needs washing.”

Magnus gasped dramatically, putting a hand up to fluff his hair. “When you put it that way, it does sound dire.”

“I’m serious,” Alec said. “If this is too much for you I want you to stop. There’s no point in over-exerting yourself for me. It’s no good having both of us this worn out, when ultimately it won’t matter for me in the end.”

Magnus stared at Alec, a fierce surge of protectiveness welling up inside him. “Of course it will matter! Alexander, every moment we can buy for you is one more moment we have to find a cure! This curse may be insidious, but I refuse to believe it’s unbeatable. I will _not_ stop trying. And you can also give up this foolish idea that you can order me around. You’re not the Head of Magnus Bane, Mr. Lightwood.” Magnus fiddled with his hair, twisting it between his fingers, a nervous habit he’d picked up some time in the 1890s and never managed to shake. “And when Catarina gets back I suggest you don’t try that with her either. She’s not above strangling you for impertinence, no matter how sick you might be. And frankly, neither am I.”

Alec only smiled softly and watched for a few moments as Magnus preened, his expression strangely peaceful.

“How long, do you think?”

Magnus blinked, confused. “How long before Catarina comes back or how long before one of us strangles you?”

“How long until – “ Alec gestured futilely at himself, but the movement of his arm made his breath catch and he trailed off into a sudden spasm of coughing, one hand clutched to his chest and the other trying in vain to cover his mouth. His body curled into a ball around an invisible center, as if trying to protect itself. The wheezing rattle of Alec’s breath felt like a knife driven straight into Magnus’s heart.

“A couple of days, maybe. I don’t know exactly. Not long, I’m afraid,” Magnus replied when the coughing had subsided. Magnus knew his expression must be grim, because he felt grim inside. But he couldn’t fake lightheartedness any more. Not even to spare Alec some small mercy of hope. “But I have the utmost faith in Catarina’s intuition. Do you - do you want to go back to the Institute, while we wait?”

Alec didn’t answer for a moment, still catching his breath. It gave Magnus enough time to calm his own racing heart; to prepare for Alec’s inevitable departure again from his life.

Alec closed his eyes and whispered a response, so quietly Magnus wasn’t sure at first that he’d heard correctly. Magnus lifted his head, eyes searching Alec’s face. It had sounded like Alec said no.

“What?”

“I said no,” Alec said, more clearly, his breathing coming back to normal. “No, I do not want to go back to the Institute.” His hazel eyes opened, wide, earnest. “I want to stay here,” Alec said. “If I’m going to die my ashes will be in the City of Bones for eternity anyway. We both know that the best place for me right now is here, with you. I mean, if that’s OK with you –“ Alec suddenly flinched. Whether from physical emotional discomfort, Magnus couldn’t tell. “If I go back there someone will just bring the Silent Brothers after me, and those guys really creep me out.”

Magnus chuckled. “They creep me out, too. And I lived with them for years.”

Alec paused, uncertainty clouding his expression, and then added quietly: “Besides, I trust you.”

It was an olive branch extended between them. Magnus nodded, afraid to speak in case his voice betrayed the sudden surge of feeling in his chest, but wanting to offer Alec an acknowledgement that he had been heard. Nothing had overtly changed, nothing of their breakup or their past few weeks apart had been directly addressed. And yet somehow, Magnus felt, some malingering tension had dissipated. Maybe they didn’t need to have a long, painful talk to make things right. Maybe the past could be accepted for what it was without trying to pick things apart. Perhaps here was the glimmering seed of a fresh beginning. Magnus hoped, more than he had ever hoped for anything in his life, that they would have time left to see if it could grow.

“Of course you can stay as long as you want, Alexander,” Magnus finally said. He sat up, yawning, ignoring a stack of papers sliding off the chaise onto the floor beside him. “Now let me make you some more tea. Oh, and after you drink it, you should shower – you really do smell worse than Jace’s laundry bag.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alec, wait.”

Magnus stood on the balcony and watched the sunset while Alec showered and cleaned up. He wanted the fresh air and the sounds of the city for a little while, alone; some time to clear his head.

Something had shifted between himself and Alec during their last conversation. It had happened subtly, and without warning; seemingly without effort, even. Part of it, Magnus suspected, was the impending sense of mortality that affected people when death was close by. Magnus and Alec wouldn’t be the first couple in history to have a brief deathbed reunification; a great, tragic end to their great, tragic love. But Magnus knew deep down that Alec’s curse wasn’t the only driving force at work.

Magnus still loved Alec, desperately and hopelessly. Through everything that had gone between them that love had never wavered, never faded. It had taken strength Magnus hadn’t even known he’d possessed to walk away from Alec. Magnus had been haunted by the heartbreak on Alec’s face as he’d said goodbye, the elevator doors closing between them and shuttering the first real happiness in love that Magnus had known. Only replaying the images in his mind of all the Downworlders killed by Valentine, plus all the warlocks he’d seen tortured and murdered by the Clave over his lifetime, had kept Magnus from running back to Alec on some days. He had to relive those injustices night after night even after Valentine’s death, to remind him of his obligations, to keep himself from looking for excuses to try to see Alec again.

Valentine was dead, but the Clave was still the Clave, judgmental and rigid. Alexander Lightwood was still sworn to uphold their Laws despite his tireless work to repair the turbulent political situation that remained between the oppressive Clave and the Downworld they wanted to desperately to control, if not eradicate. Magnus had convinced himself over many sleepless hours that any attempt at reconciliation could only ever end the same way: Alec conflicted, Magnus betrayed, both of their hearts in pieces.

Magnus had been petty to Alec on purpose after their breakup; hell, he had been downright nasty. Being in Alec’s presence, no matter what the context, continued to remind Magnus all too keenly of his own weaknesses. Keeping away from Alec had been infinitely more challenging than Magnus had expected. He had thought that if he could drive a wedge further between them, if he could throw up high enough walls to block Alexander out that Alec would cut off all contact. That way Magnus’s feelings might at least become manageable. Or perhaps Alec would grow bitter and start to actively detest Magnus. That would have Magnus helped enormously. It was easier to try to fall out of love with a person who despised you.

Magnus had hoped that his constant, overt rejection would shift Alec’s feelings, which in turn would allow Magnus to give up their love as a lost cause. But no matter what Magnus did or said, Alec always managed to let Magnus know in some subtle but unmistakable way that the door to his heart remained open to the possibility of reconciliation, if Magnus only wanted to step through.

But Magnus felt ashamed. He had been taken in by the Seelie Queen, overestimated her and been betrayed. Alec and so many, many others had very nearly been killed because Magnus had made a judgment call and judged wrongly. It was another pile of guilt to heap atop the mountain Magnus had built up over the centuries of his life. Every time Alec had stood before Magnus with a question in his eyes or a glimmer of hope on his face, Magnus’s guilt had nearly been overwhelming. He had responded in the only way he could think of, with sarcasm and jabs meant to drive Alec away forever.

And yet, despite Magnus’s best efforts, despite centuries of practice building up walls and shields around his heart, none of it had worked. Magnus had underestimated just how stubborn and single-minded Alexander Gideon Lightwood could be. It was a quality Magnus greatly admired – when directed at someone other than himself.

It was some time before Magnus realized the sound of running water had stopped; but for how long had it been silent? He knew he should go check on Alec. The insidious weakness and pain brought on by the curse crept up on the young man quickly when the curatives wore off. It would be a terrible tragedy, but just Magnus’s luck, for them to start down a tentative path to reconciliation only to have Alec fall and break his neck in Magnus’s shower.

He needn’t have worried, though. When Magnus opened the bedroom door he found the tall Shadowhunter sprawled across the bed on his back, wearing only a clean pair of black drawstring pants tied at the waist, fast asleep. The table lamp gleamed warmly, a single point of light in the dark room casting a golden glow over Alec’s features. Magnus sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, not wanting the dip in the mattress to wake Alec. He did, however, take full advantage of the opportunity to stare.

Shadowhunters sometimes looked quite intimidating, with their black gear, preeminent weapons, and angelic runes burned into their skin. But asleep, Alec genuinely looked more angelic than anyone Magnus had ever known. His long dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he dreamed. His pale, full lips were parted slightly with the soft breathing rhythm of sleep. The wasting effects of the curse made Alec look younger than Magnus remembered, and as innocent as Magnus had once assumed. Magnus was overcome with a sudden, intense desire to kiss him.

“You’ve picked a bad angle for strangling me, if that’s your plan,” Alec murmured, never opening his eyes.

“I’m a warlock. I can strangle you from any angle I choose,” Magnus huffed.

Alec’s eyes fluttered open. “So that is your plan?”

“No,” Magnus said, fixing his gaze on the bedcovers. “My plan was to give you a long and unnecessarily drawn out explanation for why I really ended our relationship, including an excruciatingly detailed sidebar on the history of Magnus Bane Versus The Clave, most of which you’re smart enough to have sussed out for yourself already. Followed by a truly inspirational soliloquy on how much I’ve missed you, a heartfelt apology, and then hopefully a kiss. Sadly I think the moment’s kind of ruined, now.” He waved a hand, idly. “All this talk of strangling people.”

Alec shifted up onto his elbows. In the periphery of his vision, Magnus could see that Alec was frowning, his eyes narrowed. _You didn’t really expect that to work, did you_ , Magnus chided himself silently. He squared his shoulders and prepared for the rejection about to come.

“As you know quite well, I wasn’t entirely blameless over what happened.” Alec paused and swallowed hard. “I made some pretty big mistakes, but I’ve learned from them. What if I accepted your apology, and offered one of my own, and promised that I won’t - I mean, if I make it through this, if we - I might make new mistakes, but at least I can promise won't make the same ones twice?” Magnus looked up into Alec’s eyes, and what he saw there made his breath catch in his throat. There were no walls between them, there was no guard up. Alec looked earnest, and honest, and determined. “What if I told you that the biggest thing I’ve learned through all of this is that, curse or no curse, I don’t think I can live without you?”

A quiver of hope bloomed in Magnus’s chest.

“I would be very happy to hear and accept all of that,” he replied.

“Happy enough to still kiss me?” Alec asked softly.

He held Alec’s gaze, so open, so unblinking. “I thought being away from you was the right call, but I can’t do anything without thinking of you. I miss you every hour of every night and day. I was wrong, Alexander,” Magnus said quietly.

“So was I. I am so very sorry, Magnus.”

 “So am I.”

Magnus leaned forward and gently kissed Alec on the lips. Hesitant to push too far, Magnus backed away slowly after just a few seconds, but Alec sat up and chased after him for a second, longer kiss. When they paused for breath Alec brought his hands up to Magnus’s face and held him in place for a third, then a fourth. As Alec’s tongue slipped between his lips, Magnus groaned.  He’d needed this so badly, the forgiveness given and received, the acceptance, the _contact_. He hadn’t realized just how much being without Alec had been eating away at him, weighing him down. He hadn’t fully understood how empty the space that Alec had filled would become when he tried to let Alec go.

Magnus leaned further into the kiss until Alec pulled them both down, side by side on the bed. Their bodies came together easily, muscle memory folding them into just the right angles for maximum contact. Magnus delighted in how wonderfully familiar Alec felt pressed against him, Alec’s leg thrown carelessly over Magnus’s hip. As their kisses grew more insistent, Alec’s hands slid underneath the soft fabric of Magnus’s shirt, softly stroking his chest and sending a bolt of hot need through him. Magnus could feel Alec’s erection hard against his thigh, and his own arousal deepened even more. But as Magnus started to slide his hands down Alec’s body he suddenly pulled back. He had been lost in the joy of being in Alec’s arms again, but his fingers skimming over Alec’s prominent ribs and emaciated stomach had quickly brought Magnus back to reality.

“Alec,” he said, twisting away as Alec tried to kiss him again. “Alec, wait.”

“What is it?” Alec whispered.

“You’re so unwell,” Magnus murmured. “I don’t want to – we shouldn’t –“

“Magnus,” Alec said, his arm winding around Magnus’s neck, his leg tightening to grip Magnus’s waist. “I just drank another entire pot of that despicable tea. There’s got to be some sort of reward coming to me just for that.”

Magnus laughed in spite of himself. “Seriously, though. Now who’s over-exerting himself?”

“I don’t care,” Alec whispered, his eyes wide and pleading, pupils blown in the dim light. “I love you, I never stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you as long as I live.”

Magnus moved quickly and claimed Alec’s mouth again, too choked up to reply. With so much emotion welling up inside him, so much love and forgiveness and desire, Magnus was hopelessly incapable of denying Alec anything. Slowly, methodically, Magnus undressed them both, his smooth hands gliding over Alec’s body. He moved quietly but deliberately, his familiar soft touches coaxing tiny moans and whispers from Alec’s lips. Still, he continually looked for reassurance that Alec wasn’t getting too tired or too out of breath. If Alec suddenly shivered or moaned a little more loudly than before, Magnus paused, unsure. But each time Alec just looked back at him, eyes heavy-lidded with desire, and begged him to go on; every such request Magnus found impossible to refuse, kissing and stroking him until Alec climaxed with a gasp and collapsed boneless against the pillows. Their bodies drew together then, arms around each other in the darkness, until sleep came down and took them both.

* * *

 

Magnus woke in the night to the sound of retching coming from the master bathroom. He sat up quickly, rubbing at his tired eyes. A dim light shone from under the door. He hesitated – would Alec be unhappy if he offered to help, or moreso if he didn’t? He nearly crawled out of bed, but then the toilet flushed and the sound of running water and splashing followed. A minute later, Alec came back into the room. He looked ghostly pale, his eyes sunken into his face. His hair was damp with sweat and curling around his ears. “Did I wake you?” he whispered. Alec’s hands were shaking as he pulled back the coverlet and slowly eased back into the bed. “I tried to be quiet. I’m sorry.” He curled under the sheets, looking wretched and then started to shiver.  Magnus reached over and felt his forehead. It was burning hot.

“You should have woken me,” Magnus chided him, softly. A cool damp cloth appeared in his hand, and he folded it over and pressed it gently to Alec’s forehead. “I’m here to help you.”

“I know,” Alec replied. “It just all happened so fast. I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom in time.”

Magnus noted the quick, shallow rise and fall of Alec’s chest. “I hope that what we did earlier didn’t make things worse.”

Alec shook his head. “It didn’t,” he said. “Don’t even think that. If I couldn’t handle it I would have stopped you.”

Magnus sighed, carding his fingers through Alec’s damp hair. “You have a history of taking on more than you can handle, my darling.”

Alec’s lashes fluttered closed, and he smiled. “But not you. I can always handle you, High Warlock of Brooklyn.” He pulled Magnus’s stroking hand to his lips and softly kissed each knuckle, curling his fingers loosely around Magnus’s. They stayed like that for a long time, Magnus worried and watchful, as Alec drifted back into sleep.

* * *

 

Black, terrifying dreams filled Alec’s head so much that he was glad when he finally woke, even though his chest ached and his head throbbed with pain. His skin burned; he pushed the sheets aside, seeking cooler air. It was daylight again, but the room was dim; he couldn’t quite see out the window but he thought it might be raining. He could hear the delicate patter of drops against the glass. That sound would have been soothing on any other day but right now his whole body really, really hurt. Magnus had probably been right about limiting their physical activity, although Alec didn’t care one bit. They hadn’t done anything that strenuous. If last night was to be the last chance Alec would ever have to be close to Magnus, to love him - nothing short of actual death could have held him back.

At some point in the night Magnus had shaken him awake and forced him to drink another pot of the curse blocking tea, even though its impact on Alec's symptoms was almost nonexistent by now. But Magnus was working so hard to help him. It was the least that Alec could do to simply drink what was put in front of him. He could hear Magnus in the next room murmuring softly; trying another spell, perhaps, maybe just reading out loud to pass the time. Maybe making more of that godawful tea.

Alec considered trying to get out of bed and go see if he could be of any help. He felt so weak that he doubted he would even be able to stand, but his infallible stubbornness made him want to try anyway. As he struggled to sit up, he was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of dread. A dark foreboding poured through him, and something else – something cold. Something deadly.

A tightening sensation started around Alec’s ankles and wrists, moving slowly up his limbs. He tried again to sit up, but he couldn’t. It was as if something was binding his arms and legs to the bed.  “Magnus,” he called, but there was no response. He opened his mouth to call again, louder, when suddenly he felt as if a giant pair of invisible hands wrapped around his torso and _squeezed_.

The pain was blinding. Alec’s lungs seized in mid-breath. He couldn’t draw in enough air even to scream from the agony. Sparks flew before his eyes and his ears roared; he couldn’t move, nor make any sound. Nothing existed in those few eternal seconds but the all-encompassing sensation of being slowly crushed to death.

Tears of pain sprang to his eyes as Alec tried in vain to fight off the unseen attack. As he struggled, the compression only tightened. Alec felt a sharp, searing jolt as first one rib snapped, then another and another. But that was all he needed: the split second of inflexible bones breaking gave his lungs just enough extra room to inflate with air. Finally, desperately, Alec screamed.

The bedroom door blew off its hinges. Instantly Magnus was there, fire crackling from his fingertips. “Alec! _Alec!_ ”  Magnus cried, his face pale and anxious. Alec couldn’t answer, his mouth open wide fighting for another breath. His pinned hands opened and closed uselessly, instinctively wanting to claw at his throat. Magnus snapped his fingers and spread his feet apart for balance, a position Alec had seen him take up many times before when preparing to summon magic. But this time there was something different in the way Magnus stood: disciplined but determined. Furious.

The room lit up with an unearthly glow and the air howled as magic came rushing around them. Alec writhed helplessly on the bed as Magnus began to chant in a low voice, tendrils of blue flame flowing out from his hands to encircle Alec. As he struggled to stay conscious Alec saw Magnus’s glamour fall away, his cat eyes burning golden and fierce as the warlock focused all of his power to a single intent. Alec could practically see the individual strands of Magnus’s magic, rippling over his skin in shimmering waves. Then Alec felt the tightness start to loosen. Air moved through his lungs again. The pain lessened, just a little. He tried to move his arm experimentally, and it rose a few inches off the bed. “It’s working,” Alec choked out.

Magnus didn’t acknowledge that Alec had spoken. He continued chanting, corded veins standing out on his neck and arms with effort, working the powerful spell that finally seemed to be plucking the strings of the curse free from Alec’s chest. Sweat beaded on Magnus’s forehead; Alec could see his hands trembling, hear Magnus’s voice rising and falling in steady waves as the magic crested and dove around them.

Out of nowhere a flash of heat seared through every nerve in Alec’s body at once. He cried out, startled, arching reflexively up off the bed. The magic changed, glowing deeply red as it flowed around him. Suddenly silent, Magnus grabbed Alec’s hand, turned it up and slashed across his palm with a narrow silver blade. As Alec’s blood welled up Magnus snapped his fingers; a carved ivory stylus appeared, unfamiliar runes decorating its length. Magnus dipped the end of the stylus in Alec’s blood and began to draw a curving symbol on the back of his own left hand. As his blood stained Magnus’s skin, the heat slowly started to drain from Alec’s body, replaced by an icy numbness that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Magnus,” Alec gasped, shaking all over but fighting desperately to stay conscious. “What the hell are you doing?”

Magnus replied through clenched teeth, just before Alec slipped away into darkness: “Everything I can to save you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re an idiot, Magnus Bane.”

“You’re an idiot, Magnus Bane.”

Bright light flared behind Magnus’s eyelids as he struggled to consciousness. “Thanks, Cat,” he groaned. Magnus cracked one eye partway open, in no rush to see what impending doom awaited him at the hands of his oldest living friend. “Did you find it?”

Catarina glared down at him balefully. “I did,” she said. “Lucky for you.” She held up a small steel box. “I’m going to hold on to this for now, though, just in case you get any more foolish ideas before I get back.”

“Get back?” Magnus winced and put a hand to his throbbing head. His mouth tasted like ashes and dead fish.

“I have to pick up Madzie before my sitter comes to the end of her patience. I only told her I might be gone over one night – I didn’t realize it would take so long to track this down. I’ll be back soon. I just wanted to make sure you were going to actually wake up before I left.”

Magnus’s eyes drifted past Catarina to the open bedroom door, the wall and frame still covered with scorch marks where he’d burst through it at Alec’s desperate cry. But he didn’t see or hear anyone in the next room.

Catarina understood his questioning glance. “Alec’s asleep on the couch,” she said, “but only because I slipped him something when he wasn’t looking. I got back from the Labyrinth just in time to find you fainting dead away and him fluttering around you like a worried mother hen.” She shook her head, clucking her tongue against her teeth. “He had five broken ribs and he was still trying to pick you up and carry you to the bed ... Anyway, I fixed him up as much as I could, and as his runes re-activate over time they’ll take care of the rest. He'll stay asleep for a little while.” She paused, her tone turning icy. “You should thank me. He knows what you’ve done and he’s not happy about it _at all_.”

“Nor are you, I take it,” Magnus croaked. He drew in a deep breath, the air rattling in his chest. A wave of nausea swept over him, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since one particularly unforgettable night in Bangkok two centuries before real hangover cures were invented. Trying to move his arms and legs only generated an increasing circuit of electrifying pains. Magnus gave up and lay still, groaning softly. He opened his other eye, ready to ride out Catarina’s forthcoming lecture. Hopefully if he looked and sounded as bad as he felt, she’d take pity on him and keep it short.

“Transferring a deadly curse _to yourself_ isn’t the brightest move you’ve ever made.”

Magnus pondered her words. He had lived a long time, and he had done a lot of stupid things. It genuinely took him a moment to decide where this one fit on the spectrum. “No,” he said finally. “It most definitely is not.”  He looked up at her, too tired to be defiant. “But he was dying, Cat. The curse finally broke through and it was killing him right in front of me.” Magnus shrugged, and instantly regretted it as all of his nerves and muscles twinged in protest. How had Alec lived through this for two entire weeks? “I did what I had to do.”

To his surprise, Catarina simply snapped her fingers. On the bedside table appeared a steaming pot of licorice-grass-scented tea.

“I know, Magnus,” she sighed, as she held a cup to his dry, cracked lips. “I know.”

* * *

 

The tea _was_ godawful, but it did help ease some of the nausea and pain. Magnus settled back in the bed and closed his eyes, grateful for the temporary respite. It wasn’t long after Catarina left, though, that he heard the bedroom door open and soft footfalls on the carpet. Magnus lay still as a stone, breathing evenly, as several minutes ticked by.

“How long are you going to pretend to be asleep?” Alec’s voice sounded strong and clear again, which pleased Magnus immensely. It also sounded pissed off, which was much less pleasing.

Magnus’s eyebrow twitched but he kept his eyes closed. “That depends. How long are you going to stand there waiting to yell at me?”

“You deserve to be yelled at,” Alec said firmly. “You transferred the curse onto yourself after I specifically told you not to do anything like that!”

 Magnus shrugged, giving up and opening his eyes. “You were dying.”

“And now you’re dying! I’ve been living with this thing for weeks, you know. I know exactly what you’re going through right now. The pain, the nausea, struggling to breathe - I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy! But especially not on the man I love!”

At that, all the tension drained out of Magnus. “Alexander,” he said softly. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you did, Magnus,” Alec snapped.

Alec was wearing his most bullish expression. But Magnus didn’t care because there was color back in Alec’s stubborn cheeks. Alec’s breathing was once again smooth and unencumbered by the curse. He was still terribly thin, and it would take him a while to get completely back to normal. But Alec was cured. He could yell at Magnus for the rest of their lives if he wanted to, Magnus wouldn’t care. Magnus was the immovable object to Alec’s irresistable force.

“No, I didn’t. Because I’d rather die myself than let the man _I_ love get slowly crushed to death when I knew I could prevent it. To stand there and watch you die? What kind of a choice is that?” Alec stuttered in protest, but Magnus held up a hand. “Don’t even try to pretend you wouldn’t have done the same. For me and for everyone else that you love, for that matter.”

“That’s different,” Alec began, louder, but stopped as Magnus winced and put a finger to his lips.

“You know it isn’t. And please don’t shout. I’ve got a killer headache.”

Alec’s shoulders sagged, but he pressed his lips together in silence as he sat down dejectedly on the edge of the bed.

“Look. I’ve lived a very long time, and I’ve made some spectacularly bad decisions. I think we both know that quite well.” Magnus reached for Alec’s hand. “But there should never be any question about the validity of this one. If I had it to do again I wouldn’t hesitate. And if our roles were reversed, neither would you. ”

Alec looked down at their clasped hands. Magnus watched as the fight drained out of him until finally Alec nodded in agreement.

“There is no point in continuing to argue over what cannot be undone.” Magnus continued, gently. “The good news is that I’ve bought us more time. Catarina’s back and she’s brought her legendary knife. We’ll figure out how to use it to cut this thing loose and then we’ll all live happily ever after.”

“And if we don’t? Magnus, I – “ Alec swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “I just got you back. I can’t lose you again.”

For a moment Magnus thought his heart might literally burst inside his chest. He reached out with his free hand and touched the side of Alec’s face, a familiar gesture he had greatly missed. “After we get through this, you won’t lose me ever again, Alexander. I promise.”

* * *

 

Alec sat by Magnus’s bedside, his head in his hands.

Since Catarina had returned with Madzie in tow, they’d been searching for hours for some clue about how to use the mysterious mystical knife to sever the curse from Magnus. But the knife remained in its case, untouched, in the living room; they had found nothing helpful at all.

Madzie kept asking to see Magnus, but Catarina had refused to allow it. The curse was eating away at the warlock much faster than it had affected Alec. Catarina theorized that it might be feeding off of Magnus’s own magic, or that Alec’s runes or Nephilim ancestry had been significantly more protective than they’d suspected. But all of that was academic speculation, and none of it mattered. Alec was desperately worried about just how sick Magnus was becoming, and how quickly. Magnus’s eyes were sunken and bloodshot and his skin had taken on a sallow sheen. The brewed tea wasn’t helping him; he’d retched up the last cup he’d tried to drink just a few hours before. Even moving his head too fast caused Magnus’s stomach to roil and could throw him into a fit of wheezing coughs. No one wanted Madzie to see Magnus like that, and Catarina’s efforts had to be focused into research and experimentation along with whatever supportive care she could offer. Since Alec couldn’t read the coded warlock scrolls from the Labyrinth anyway, and couldn’t help with research he had played with Madzie instead. Finally, the warlock child had tired herself out and fallen asleep on the couch. But even after that all he could do to help was run and fetch whatever Magnus and Catarina asked him for, even though they all knew that the warlocks could easily have summoned anything they needed themselves. But at least it kept him busy.

Catarina paced the length of the bedroom. “OK, so here’s everything we know so far: we can’t use magic to guide the knife remotely, and using gloves or any other physical barrier between the bearer and the knife inactivates all of its magic. So there has to be physical contact, but no one can physically touch the knife to use it without dying as soon as they call magic down.” She scrubbed tiredly at her face. “We’re missing something, I just know it. There has to be a way to do this,” she growled. “There has to be.”

“There is,” Alec said, “but you won’t let me try.”

“We’ve been over this, Alexander,” Magnus said. He lay flat on the bed, exhaustion and labored breathing making his voice gravelly and rough. “As soon as you pick up that knife and try to use it for anything magical, you’ll turn to a pile of ash.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Alec argued. “Only warlocks have ever tried. No one’s ever let a Shadowhunter try.”

“Because Shadowhunters can’t _control_ magic, Alec,” Catarina snapped. “Even if you could somehow activate the knife you wouldn’t be able to guide it, and there’s no guarantee that Magnus or I could stop you from getting vaporized.”

“And besides,” Magnus croaked, “I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for me and show me up after I went to all this trouble of trying to sacrifice myself for you first.”

“You’re not funny,” Alec said.

Catarina stopped pacing, hands on her hips. “If you would both be quiet for just _one_ minute so I can _think_.”

 “Magnus,” Madzie said from the doorway in her small, sleepy voice.

“Not now, Sweet Pea,” Magnus called, his voice cracking with effort.

“Magnus,” Madzie said again, more insistently. “Look at this.”

Catarina turned toward the door and screamed.

Alec leaped to his feet as Magnus rolled painfully to his side, coughing with the effort. Madzie stood in the open doorway of the bedroom, the magical knife clutched awkwardly in her small hands – and glowing.

“Madzie, no!” Catarina cried, lunging toward her.

“Cat!” Magnus gasped, throwing up his hand. Alec knew Magnus was too weak to summon his magic in time. But Alec was already a blur of motion, springing across the floor with Shadowhunter speed despite his own lingering weakness. He caught Catarina around the waist just before she reached Madzie. The two of them spun sideways and fell to the ground, Alec twisting himself to absorb most of the shock and letting Catarina land on top of him, a noble gesture he immediately regretted as his freshly healed ribs bounced off the floor.

“Cat, you can’t touch it!” Magnus cried hoarsely. “Don’t touch it!”

“She’s fine,” Alec said urgently, gripping Cat’s arms tightly as she struggled against him. “Look, Madzie’s fine, it’s not hurting her.”

Catarina stared at Madzie, her eyes wide. “How is that even possible?” she exclaimed. “Madzie! How are you doing that?”

Madzie looked down, her chin tucked to her chest, the knife loosened in her grip but still glowing with an ethereal sheen. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. It tugged at Alec’s heart; Madzie was only a child. She didn’t understand why everyone seemed so upset.

“Madzie,” Alec said softly, pulling himself up on his knees. “Tell us about what you have there.”

Madzie looked down at the knife then held it out toward Alec. He held up his hand. “I can’t touch that, Mads,” he said. “It will hurt me. But for some reason it isn’t hurting you. Do you know why?”

“It sings,” Madzie said simply.

Catarina frowned. “The knife is singing to you?”

Madzie nodded. “It makes a sound. Can you hear it?” She extended it further toward them.

Alec shook his head. “We can’t hear it, sweetie. But it’s very special that you can.” He stood carefully and helped Catarina to her feet.

“The boy,” Magnus said thoughtfully, and they turned to look at him. “How old was he? The one that brought the knife through.”

“No more than nine or ten years old.” Catarina paused, head tilting in thought. “Pre-adolescent. Everyone who’s ever died trying to use the knife –“

“Was an adult,” Magnus finished. He fell back onto the pillows, one hand to his chest as another coughing spasm overtook him.

“It’s her age?” Alec said wonderingly. “That’s why Madzie isn’t getting fried right now?”

“That must be it,” Catarina said. She straightened, her sense of purpose returning. “How could we miss something so obvious? Madzie, kiddo, you can help us help Magnus feel better. We can show you how to do it. Do you want to help us?”

Madzie nodded, shyly. Magnus, catching his breath, called up his last reserves of strength. He pulled himself up, held out his hand to Madzie and smiled.

* * *

 

Magnus awoke feeling totally better. Well, maybe not totally: his jaw ached from clenching his teeth throughout most of the curse removal. The process had hurt more than he had expected, but probably not as much as it would have if Catarina hadn’t been present to shield him from some of the worst of the pain. He rolled over, marveling at how pleasant it was to move without fire shooting through all of his nerves and bones.

Madzie had been amazing. Her technique was crude, which was excusable since she was only five years old. But her attention had been thorough as she’d carefully disentangled all of the strands of the curse from around and through Magnus’s body. Each shimmering line of magic had pulled and snapped as Madzie teased them apart, cracking over his skin with sharp stings like broken elastics. Each strand of the curse had flared up and disintegrated as soon the knife passed through it, but each one had to be cut individually, and there were so many ... When it was finally over, the burning pains replaced with a dull ache, Catarina had passed a hand over his eyes and forced Magnus into a restful, restorative sleep.

He stretched out his legs, unexpectedly touched another body atop the coverlet beside him, and froze.

“Good morning,” Alec said softly.

Magnus’s heart fluttered in his throat. He opened his eyes. “You’re here,” he said.

“Where else would I be?” Alec said, smiling down at him.

“At the Institute,” Magnus said. “Perhaps in Idris. Or in the kitchen, making me breakfast. Or going to the-“

Alec’s lips pressing hard against his own cut off Magnus’s last thought. Magnus didn’t mind at all.

Magnus smiled and opened his eyes as they pulled apart. “I can’t help but notice that you are lying here fully dressed. Going back to work so soon?”

“Not quite yet. My medical leave is extended through at least the rest of the week; the Silent Brothers have to clear me to return to active duty.” Alec grimaced at the thought, and Magnus chuckled, but kindly.

“Anyway I just had a quick conversation with Jace,” Alec continued. “He says best wishes for a speedy recovery, by the way. They still have no solid leads on who could have developed and cast such a curse. The Seelies were - unhelpful.”

“Shocking,” Magnus muttered.

“The Silent Brothers have been fully debriefed on what transpired. They are looking into the matter.” Magnus nodded; a magical attack on any Shadowhunter, but especially Head of a major Institute, would not be taken lightly. “Catarina has gone back to the Labyrinth to update the scholars there. Your suspicions about it being possibly demonic in origin have everyone even more concerned than before. Now that the immediate problem of lifting the curse is ended, they can all focus their efforts on tracking the source. Given how quickly that magic drained someone as old and as powerful as you, none of the warlocks are too keen to let someone – or something - that dangerous run around undiscovered for too long.”

Magnus nodded. Self-preservation was the strongest common ground between all of their races.

“Catarina and I have started lobbying to have the scholars and the Brothers pool their resources and work together,” Alec went on. “There’s been some initial resistance, but I think we’re making progress.” Magnus smiled more broadly; of course Alec would push for unity. Magnus was so very, very proud of Alec and so very, very glad that they’d been able to come back together again. To think that his own foolishness had almost kept him from the man he loved, forever – Magnus promised himself he would never make such a mistake again.

Magnus’s jaw set with conviction. “We’ll find out who did this to you,” he said.  “If they’re very lucky, someone else will find them before I do.”

“Or before I do,” Alec said firmly. “And in the meantime?” Alec asked, shifting closer, his arm snaking around Magnus’s shoulder.

Magnus smiled and reached for him. “In the meantime, darling, we’ve got some magic to make of our own.“

 

~FIN~


	6. Epilogue & Notes

Thanks again to everyone who supported me in this journey. Your kudos and comments are amazing <3

The sequel is posted now: [thy kingdom come](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12815397/chapters/29256348)

:) xoxoxox


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